


Orochimaru, conform.

by goddamnitaisha



Category: Naruto
Genre: Age Difference, Gen, Homophobia, Queerphobia, age gap, suggested teacher/student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10214060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddamnitaisha/pseuds/goddamnitaisha
Summary: (This is the AO3 work I'm proudest of.) After a night at a pub, teacher/adoptive-parent Third Hokage walks teenage Orochimaru home.  They talk. Hiruzen wants Orochimaru to conform to society, so Hiruzen will feel less attracted and more parental. Orochimaru just wants to express himself and be loved (but he feels replaced by trueborn son Asuma). Sexual tension. Angst.





	

After every multi-day mission, Hiruzen walked each of his students home. Both because he cared, and because it made a good impression on everyone who saw it, but mostly the parents.

Today’s walk home was an uncomfortable one, even to Hiruzen’s standards - and that was saying something because he was used to Danzo oozing discomfort. He stuck to the routine. Tsunade Senju brought home first, and then Jiraiya, and he made an impression on their parents as always. This time’s impression was one of mixed reactions. The mums were frowning, the dads were grinning.

Their clothes stank of nicotine and alcohol. Earlier this night Hiruzen had mixed their mission-investigation with some educational exploration, not in the last place to enjoy himself. The kids were teenagers now. Better have a ‘good influence’ introduce them to the vices, than a bad one. They had visited the nightlife district in a fishtown village. They might’ve entered the Rocky Horse Pub. He might’ve made a pyramid of emtpy glasses. Jiriaiya and Tsunade had added theirs, laughing because it was cheating.

The spoilsport of the evening was the one walking beside Hiruzen right now. Orochimaru had given everyone the stink eye, and taken hours to finish one bottle of fruit juice. He had been keeping his finger on the top of the bottlemouth all the time as if he was afraid it would get spiked. This very evening had been wild with the intention to make him loosen up, to teach him to fit in.

“Look,” Hiruzen started, and he intended to elaborate. He wanted to laugh off that he had put a hand on Orochimaru’s ass while ordering a four-colour mix drink with an umbrella 'for the lady’. 

But right now Orochimaru did exactly as told, and looked.

Under that gaze, Hiruzen didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He let out a shakey breath, that came out in four parts.

Orochimaru looked forward again, and lift his chin. “You don’t need to walk me home.”

“I want to.”

Then they arrived at Orochimaru’s house… cave. They climbed the stairs to the first floor that would lead to the front door. The kid always kept the curtains closed. Kid managed to look presentable, but on the inside, the house was a mess. The kid was a mess, too. He shouldn’t live like this.

Orochimaru stuck a hand in his big sleeve of his opposite arm and his hand sought. Then he pulled out his key and opened the front door. He glanced over his shoulder.

“I care for you,” Hiruzen said. He stepped forward and inside. He pressed a foot against the bottom of the door and he could tell that it scared Orochimaru a little. “Biwako-chan and I would really want you to come live with us again. Come home.”

Orochimaru stood still, wordless. He turned around, far enough to show the wine stain Tsunade had made when he’d caught her. He looked up. The ugly streetlight made his skin yellow.

Hiruzen gazed down into the eyes. For a moment they were locked in this position. They stared. The wind pulled some strands over Orochimaru’s eyes and pressed Hiruzen’s clothes against his back, as if the wind wanted to push him indoors. He tried not to blink, because Orochimaru didn’t. Blinking might disturb this moment with this beautiful kid. He flexed his hand, the hand he had put on Orochimaru’s back and then let slip down to his narrow ass.

Orochimaru glanced down to the hand.

The pressure of the door against his foot increased.

“It was a joke,” Hiruzen said. “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. It was a joke. I thought you’d be able to take it. It was social pressure to make you cut your hair. Hair signals change. People could think you’re still loyal to the Mist.”

“If I may ask…” Orochimaru said. At last he was speaking.

Hiruzen smiled.

“Does it matter that I look like a girl?” Orochimaru asked.

Hiruzen caught the double meaning of this question, does it matter to you. Does it matter that I’m a boy.

“Jiraiya-kun hit puberty early, you don’t have to worry about it, your voice will change too.”

Orochimaru looked offended -angered- that Hiruzen chose not to understand him. It was glaringly unfair to push the conversation in a different direction, and the direction of Orochimaru’s insecurities at that. 

Hiruzen was beating the teen up with them. In his full right, too, because a shinobi should be more shielded.

Orochimaru had eyed Jiraiya all evening. He had stirred that one orange juice with a straw as he checked how ladies of the night took a detour from their customers to talk with the wide-eyed Jiraiya. Who could blme them? Jiraiya was funny, and was beginning to learn how to flirt.  
Orochimaru hadn’t looked at the girls, only at their footwear. Shyness? Respect? Hiruzen doubted it was the main reason.

“Maybe if you’d look a bit more boyish,” Hiruzen said. “It’s well within your perogative to not cut your hair, but if you’d tie it up,”

Orochimaru combed his hair back with long fingers with long nails.

“-that would make a difference already.” Hiruzen said. “There. It does.”

“No,” Orochimaru whisper-said. “It doesn’t. It will only visually elongate my neck.”

He was right.

“I’m sure can cut it in a way that doesn’t look girly.”

“Will still show off my neck,” Orochimaru said, and now he sounded annoyed.

Hiruzen was going to invalidate very answer Orochimaru would give, until he got what he want. It was a habit. “If-”

“I don’t want to anyone to see,” Orochimaru hooked a finger under the turtleneck collar, and pulled it down to reveal a long horizontal scar on his throat. It ran from left to right.

“Of course not,” Hiruzen huffed. “Then how about you wear a scarf? Our Sarutobi clan wears scarfs. Come home and I’ll give you one of mine.”

“You gave the scarf to Asuma,” Orochimaru said. “He doesn’t even know what a scarf is.”

“I’ve got more,” Hiruzen said kindly. He really had to do his best. He could not tell if he was getting to Orochimaru. But if he had any say in this, by the end of this weekend, Orochimaru’s ears would be visible. Hiruzen didn’t want to make any stupid mistakes with his wandering hands again. “Let me in, I’ll make tea for us, and we can talk it over.”

Orochimaru’s lip curved up. “You assume we’re going to fight.”

Hiruzen pressed against the door, and to his surprise, Orochimaru let go. The door opened and Hiruzen entered. The hallway was dark and there were cobwebs on the ceiling. They went to the living room-annex-kitchen.

“Where did all the furniture go?”

“It distracted me.” Orochimaru went to the stove to put on a kettle. 

Hiruzen squatted down to look at one of the scrolls that was laid out on the floor from the far right to the far left side of the room. It was filled with handwriting in a fine print. “I see you’re working on lots of jutsus.”

“Yes.”

“How’s that going?”

“Fine.”

“A bit slow, I imagine. I could help you develop them, every evening, talk over the weak points.”

Orochimaru didn’t say anything which probably meant he was tempted.

“You shouldn’t practise them without sensei.”

“I have a another sensei.”

The water cooker began to whistle.

Hiruzen looked up.

Orochimaru must have sensed Hiruzen’s surprise, because he looked around, and for the first time he smiled. “I said, I have a sensei.”

“Who?” It couldn’t possibly be a good one. He’d been trained by Tobirama and Hashirama. There was no one better than him. Whoever was influencing Orochimaru’s intellect and letting him write down how to channel genjutsu through the upper arm chakra channel was an absolute waste of time.

“Shimura Danzo-sama.”

When had Danzo gotten into the picture? Danzo had mentioned nothing to him about training Orochimaru. He spoke over the sound of the louder-and-louder whistling water cooker. “I’ll just have a talk with Danzo, then.”

“Why, do you want me back?”

“Of course I do!”

Orochimaru looked struck. His beautiful eyes were wide. He was paralyzed. He lift both of his hands, he hid them in his sleeves, and he put his sleeve-hands over his face. Was he crying or getting red or both? He didn’t take the watercooker from the planform.

Hiruzen stood up, his knees cracked. He walked to the fourteen-year-old, and put his arms around him. He reached out and took the whistling kettle from the fire. The noise died down. He put his chin on the black hair. The hair felt smooth and smelled much too girly. Hiruzen’s breath reeked of alcohol, Orochimaru smelled like Hiruzen was smoking a cigarette in the Yamanaka flowershop.

“Of course I want you back home.”

Orochimaru stayed still. He had his face hidden in Hiruzen’s shirt.

“You’re important to me.”

“You’re important to me too.”

“You’re my favourite student.”

“If… if I come home, will I get the purple scarf?”

“I gave that one to Asuma.”

“I want the purple one. He’s young, he won’t know.”

Hiruzen said nothing.

“Shimura-sama. He-,” There was a hic in the kid’s voice, and Hiruzen thought it had to be the hormones of puberty. Couldn’t be a sob, was it? Nah, Orochimaru was strong like him, and Hiruzen had never cried in front of _his_ teachers.

He thought back to how had been trained by the two previous Hokage. Maybe Orochimaru was benefitting from Danzo’s involvement as well. Maybe if he gave Danzo some Hokage duties, they could spend an equal individual amount of time with Orochimaru. Hiruzen could limit Danzo’s influence. Danzo was probably the reason why Orochimaru hadn’t come home.

Who was making a rift between whom? Was Danzo trying to wedge them apart? Or was Orochimaru trying to break him and his best friend apart? Either way, Hiruzen had to make sure his favorite student wouldnt get spoilt.

Orochimaru’s fingernails dug in Hiruzen’s shirt. He clung, more like a child than a teenager.

“Cut your fingernails,” Hiruzen said. “And give Tsunade-chan her nailpolish back.”

“He…” Orochimaru continued in a whisper: “-cares for me, more than you ever did.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Hiruzen said.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a tricky piece to write. Leave a comment telling me "I like this" or tell me about a specific detail that stood out to you. This is the story I am most proud of, so please tell me how it made you feel!


End file.
